iRewind
by xXACCEBXx
Summary: Freddie wishes he could take back that one moment. That one moment when it should have happened but didn't. That moment that he's been regretting for ten years. But unlike his camcorder, life doesn't have a rewind button. SEDDIE.


**I love when I find tech-y references to involve Freddie. I mean, it's a big part of who he is. So when I heard this song, "Rewind" by Diane Birch, I totally thought Freddie. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this.**

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**iRewind**

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_There are many things that I would_  
_Like to say to you_  
_But I don't have the words in my head_  
_Days are passing by_  
_And all the leaves are changing too_  
_But time won't change the things unsaid_  
_Cuz everything is different now_  
_I'd really like to tell you how_  
_ How I wanted you here by my side_  
_ I know what I said but I lied_  
_ It looked like a laugh but I cried_  
_ Now I wish I could push rewind_

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From the second I woke up, I knew it was going to be an exhausting day. Even before I was awake, the thick smell of bleach hit my nostrils, and I knew that my mother had been here early.

Officially, she comes bi-weekly, but when she sneaks in almost every morning, she can't avoid cleaning something, which usually gives her away. Most of the time, she pretends she was never here, but when I got to my kitchen, I could see that she'd left a box of stuff, with a note.

_Fredward, I just stopped to drop off this box of junk I found in your room. Considering tonight, I was thinking you might want something out of it. By the way, I cleaned your bathroom. You've really slacked off. Your shampoos and conditioners were totally out of height order, and you forgot to write the expiration dates on them, so I sent them to a lab to be sure. Until I receive the results, I left some anti-tick shampoos and conditioners in their place. You can never be too sure! Love, Mom_

I shook my head, making a mental note to stop at the drug store and pick up new hair products, before opening the box. I was trying to remember what she meant, "considering tonight."

On top of the box was my yearbook from senior year, 2010. Ten years ago. I tapped the cover, finally remembering my plans for tonight.

I'd been trying to forget about it for weeks. Everyone I'd been friends with ten years ago, I had lost touch with. Carly, Spencer, Gibby…Sam. When I left for school in Boston, I left with the unfulfilled promise of keeping in touch. I hadn't even moved back to Seattle until a few months ago.

I walked across the kitchen to start the coffee maker, and poured a cup before taking the box and dropping onto my couch.

I vaguely remember packing this box, saving it as a time capsule of everything I was leaving behind, but I couldn't remember what I had actually packed.

Under the yearbook were some of my old awards, my acceptance letter to college, and an old video camera, a dinosaur by today's standards. Under the camera was a shoebox of old DVDs, and I could see that most of them were episodes of iCarly.

For old times sake, I put one in the camera and watched it on the tiny screen. I fought back tears as I remembered my friends, remembering why I didn't want to go to the reunion.

To me, Carly and Sam were just as I left them. Eighteen and beautiful. Not that I believed they had grown old or ugly, but they would never again be the Carly and Sam that I was friends with, and on occasions, more than friends with, all those years ago.

That was probably part of it. I had never been proud of having feelings for both of them. I was always the winner of a losing game. When I had one, I was neglecting my friendship with the other. Not that Sam and I had ever officially dated. What we did couldn't even really be considered as going out. Another regret.

By now everything would have changed. My mother had mentioned in conversation that Spencer had married and moved to Yakima. The last she heard, Carly was engaged, maybe even married, to a guy she'd met in college. A guy I'd never even met.

But Sam. I hadn't seen or heard from Sam in almost seven years. She'd gone to college on a scholarship, and at the time, she hadn't been arrested again, but I could never be sure with Sam.

I watched a few more iCarly DVDs for old time's sake, before uncovering the real treasure. The home movies I'd taken through high school. Considering the reunion tonight, I picked out one that had "PROM" written across it in Sharpie.

I flipped the disc over in my hands, trying to forget what was forever inscribed on it. This was my old life. Everything else had a distinct before and after taste after prom.

I envied how young I was back then. I was so naïve. Everything skidded past me. Love. Regret. They didn't mean anything really. I didn't even know what they were until that night.

_I'd brought Sam as my date that night, as "friends." Looking back, that term was so overused. Especially between Sam and I. We'd never really been friends. It had simply been a blanket title for the fuzzy area between wanting to jump each other and…well...wanting to jump each other._

_Most of the night went as planned. The stereotypical high school "promenade." I've never really liked school dances. The dancefloor is always filled with either horny grinders, or even hornier slow-dancers-during-fast-songs. Sam had only agreed to one dance all night, and Carly was busy throwing herself at some baseball player, so I found my way to a door and snuck out._

_I found myself trailing through the hallways of the hotel, almost tripping over discarded corsages and pumps. I followed an arrow to the hotel courtyard, where there was an outdoor pool, all lit up for the night. No one was here, which surprised me, but the quiet was a blessing._

_I lay back on one of the patio chairs and inhaled deeply, smelling a mix of chlorine and grass. With my eyes closed, I could still see the reflection of the pool from behind my eyelids. It was the most relaxation I'd felt in a long time, especially on the eve of graduation. I might have fallen asleep, had the smell of coconut not come along on the breeze._

_For years now, I have always associated that scent with one person. Sure enough, I opened one eye and saw Sam standing only a few feet away, staring into the pool as I had only a few minutes earlier._

"_Way to abandon me in their Freddork," she said without actually looking at me. I sat up and stared at her. The pool lights were reflecting off her face, and the soft breeze was lifting her hair. I took a deep breath as she finally looked at me, smirking slightly._

"_I didn't mean to," I said quickly, too stunned to think of a comeback. She seemed as surprised as I was. I moved my feet to make room for her to sit, and she looked at me, before carefully sitting._

"_This is so frustrating," she let out finally, and for a moment I was afraid she'd meant the game we'd been playing, before she added, "High school. I'm so tired of it."_

"_It's almost over," I reminded her, but she wouldn't have it._

"_Not soon enough," she grumbled. "I am so ready to be rid of this place."_

"_There's got to be something you'll miss about this place," I said, staring past her shoulder and into the pool._

"_I'll miss you," she said too quickly, before she realized it and added, "and Carly, and Gibby…"_

_I grabbed my camcorder from my side and held it up, grinning, "I need to get that on film. Samantha, will you please repeat what you just said…"_

_I pushed record, but she just smirked and stuck her tongue out at me, "Not for the world Fredlumps."_

_I let my arm drop down to my side, forgetting to turn off the camcorder, and prodded her._

"_You're really going to miss me aren't you?"_

_She didn't answer, but picked one of the flowers out of her corsage and threw it into the pool, where it floated on the waves from the filter. She focused on it, refusing to acknowledge my question._

"_Well, I know I'm going to miss you," I tried, and she looked at me. I tried to judge her expression, but she had none. "I think I'm going to miss you more than anyone else."_

"_Really?" she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm._

"_Really," I said, so quietly I even surprised myself. She caught my eyes this time, surprised at my answer. Her eyes asked so many questions, none of which I could answer. Instead, I said, "Come on, one more dance."_

_I stood up and held my hand out. To my surprise, she took it and stood up, still in shock from my last statement. As I took her waist, I could hear music drifting through an open door, and I knew it was one of Sam's favorites, "Open Arms" by Journey._

_I started singing the lyrics, and she openly laughed at my singing voice, which made me smile. Her laughter quieted to a smile as she stared at me, and I knew she was waiting for me to make a move, but I couldn't._

"_So, Boston huh?" she started, knowing this could lead in her direction. "I bet there are beautiful girls in Boston."_

"_There are beautiful girls in Seattle," I told her, fully knowing I was playing into her hand._

"_But Carly's moving to San Francisco…" she taunted me._

"_And you will be lighting up the emerald city," I told her, more serious than I'd ever been in my life. I knew she could tell when she leaned toward me._

_This had been what I'd been waiting for months. Now the moment was here. All I had to do was bend a little and…_

I paused the video, unable to watch the rest. Because this was the big regret. When Sam leaned in to kiss me, I turned my head unable to face what I knew was right. When Sam realized this, she simply untangled herself and walked off. She didn't threaten me, hit me, make my cry for my mother…she just quietly walked away. And it was worse than if she'd done all those things and more. Because I knew she was never coming back.

No matter how many times I hit rewind, hoping the story would end differently, it was always the same. I was still in this big empty apartment, alone, rewinding unchangeable memories of my best years.

So I did the only thing I could do. I took a shower, shaved, combed my hair, and put on my second-best suit. I stood in front of the mirror for fifteen minutes in the great tie/no-tie debate. No-tie won, simply because I was already short of breath. I went back into the box my mom had dropped off and found the cheap cologne I'd worn in high school and put some on, hoping she would remember it.

With twenty minutes to spare, I pulled out of the parking garage and headed toward the restaurant where the reunion was being held. Deep down, I feared she would be totally different. Married. Divorced. Maybe she was a mother. Maybe she would hate me. Maybe she wouldn't remember me. Or worst of all, maybe she wouldn't be there at all.

I took a deep breath as I handed my keys to the valet and faced the double doors. My eyes immediately searched the dining room, unable to find her, and I wandered into the bar, about to call it a loss.

Every fear I'd had about not being able to recognize her was gone, as I recognized her, sitting at the bar. She was staring into the glass like she'd stared into the pool all those years ago. Her hair was shorter, her legs longer, but she was still just as I remembered.

I sat down next to her, comforted by the scent of coconut, and before she could recognize me, I muttered, "Puckett."

She smirked, and without even looking at me, she muttered, "Benson."

I turned in her direction as smiled, "It's been a long time hasn't it? It is still Puckett, isn't it?"

I waited on baited breath to hear her answer, and she smirked, almost knowing, before muttering, "Yes. It is still Benson isn't it?"

I had been so afraid she had changed, but that was exactly something the old Sam would say. I chuckled as I answered, "Yes."

"So, you still live with your mother. How's she been?" Sam smirked, her mockery of my mother apparent.

"I do not live with my mother! I have my own apartment. But she's doing well. She…cleaned my bathroom this morning while I was sleeping," I tried to keep a straight face, but I burst out laughing, in harmony with Sam's automatic outburst. When I calmed down, I asked, "You?"

"I'm living with Melanie until she gets married next month. After that, I don't know," she said, not seeming to care about any of this.

"So you're doing well?" I asked, hoping the answer was yes, but deep down wishing she would just say there was one thing was missing.

"Sure, I guess," she said, proving me right. "And you?"

"Great…I guess," I said, hoping she would question it more than I did, but knowing she would never put herself out there with me again, after what I'd done.

"I've missed you," I admitted to her, hoping it would make things even slightly better.

Her azure eyes connected with mine, and she admitted, "Me too."

I looked away; trying to escape feeling what I knew was still there. It was too hard. I still couldn't forgive myself after all of these years. If I couldn't forgive myself, I couldn't see how she would forgive me.

I took a swig of whatever I was drinking. Liquid courage. She stared at me. I never used to drink. I was quite against it actually. One of the few things that had changed in my life.

She waited. I waited. We both expected me to stand up for myself, to make up for what I'd done all those years ago. But I couldn't do it. I was still a coward.

I took another swig to bury the sick feeling in my stomach. There were so many better men in the world for her. She'd regret ever wanting me.

"Maybe I was right," she said, tired of waiting. "You haven't changed at all."

She grabbed her pocketbook off the bar, and I could tell she was about to leave. Without being told, my hand jumped out to grab her wrist, to keep her from going, but my mouth couldn't follow.

She stared at my hand, expecting me to deny it, but I couldn't. She was right. I was the same coward that had turned away from her kiss ten years ago, just as I was releasing her wrist today. She shook her head and took a step toward the door before I told her, "I wish I could rewind…I wish I could take it back…"

She turned back to me, her eyes filled with…pity maybe, "Fredward, you can't rewind," she said, pulling me into an undeserved hug. "You can only push play."

She released me, and with an unspoken goodbye, slithered through the crowd and out the door. I watched her, counting every step she took away from me.

Once again, I was letting her get away. The regret from the last time rubbed raw in my chest, and I knew it was nothing compared to what I would feel now.

But what if Sam was right? Life didn't have a rewind button. I could never go back to that night and change what I'd done. But I could push play. I had to push play.

I pushed through the crowd as fast as I possibly could, muttering "excuse-mes" as I went, before pushing against the door into the cold night air. I searched the headlights, but I couldn't see past the glare. This was almost hopeless.

"Freddie?" I heard her chirp behind me. Her voice was weak, and I don't think she expected me to follow her. Maybe that was part of why I was doing it.

The valet had just handed her the keys to her car and she stood next to it, stunned. I ran over to her and grabbed her by the elbows. There was no way I was letting her get away.

"Freddie, what are you…?" she started, but I cut her off.

"Let me talk, damn it! There are things we've both needed to hear me say for ten years, and damn it, I'm going to say them!"

She nodded, even deeper in shock.

"You're right. I can't rewind. But if I could, I would take back that one moment. The moment when I should have kissed you. Yes, I should have kissed you. You should not have had to kiss me. And I should not have rejected you. I didn't want to reject you, and I don't know why I did. But no, I can't rewind. But someone, someone I care very deeply about, once told me that you can't rewind, you can only push play. This is me…pushing play."

And with that, I pressed her up against the passenger door of her car and gave her the kiss I'd been meaning to give her for ten years. When I did, I could feel her knees give a little out of surprise. I only pulled back when she was trying to pull breath from me, breath I didn't have.

When she finally got her breath back, I was expecting some grand statement, some statement of adoration. But this was Sam, so I was even less surprised when her first words were, "Freddie, how often does your mother break in to clean the bathroom?"

I gave her a strange look, "Almost every day, why?"

She kissed me on the corner of my mouth, showing just how capable she was of making the first move, and whispered in my ear, "Because I love that face she makes when you've done something bad."

"And why would she make that face?" I asked, using all my self control not to let my voice crack.

She opened the passenger door and directed me to get in, smirking, "You'll figure it out."

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**That was nice to get out of my system. To anyone reading my story, iGTAW, know that graduation is looming, and with it, hopefully, a slew of updates. Until then, au revoir! And please review ;D**


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